


Tides Of War

by orphan_account



Series: Spending Valen-time with the Girl of Your Dreams [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, F/F, Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>February 5th - A kiss of relief. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(Rated M for language and intense themes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tides Of War

Arryn opened her eyes, immediately regretting her decision as she was greeting by the harsh sunlight. Her hands were bound behind her back, making it impossible for her to try and block the intense rays. Instead, she squinted and tried to sit herself up.

As she began to move, a hand grabbed her back and lifted her by her shirt. Her legs kicked underneath her, trying to find stable ground to keep her up.

Her hazel eyes met the ominous face of a black skull mask. If she looked closely, she could see two beady blue eyes staring intently back at her. She knew the infamous face anywhere: _Ryan fucking Haywood_.

He was notorious in all of Los Santos. Even though everyone knew Geoff ran the Fake AH Crew, it was Ryan they feared. He was the one who did all of their dirty work like disposing of bodies and destroying evidence. But what was truly frightening about him was that he was a loose cannon. Not even his gang members could predict his moves or _control_ them.

It was Arryn’s job to snoop and find dirt on anyone and everyone in the town. And, during her watching, she had observed that even the Fake AH Crew seemed to fear the man. They were incredibly grateful he was on _their_ side. And, to keep it that way, they let him go on random killing sprees.

Anyone who found themselves in the crosshairs of his gun knew that they were looking death in eyes. And Arryn was quite literally staring at the blue irises of her end.

But, instead of snapping her neck or putting a bullet in her skull, Ryan tossed her to the ground. She felt the air knocked of her lungs as her back slammed into the rigid rocks of the desert. She had to be in the Grand Senora Desert. The heat was like no other.

Arryn attempted to speak but realized her voice was muffled by a bandana shoved in her mouth. Her feet were free and, if she was dumb, she could have attempted to take off.

But, from visual evidence and experience, Arryn knew that anyone who tried to flee from the Fake AH Crew ended up in the ground with plenty of bullets riddling their corpse. And she knew, with Ryan watching over her like the Guardian of Death he was, that if she tried to run, all it took was one well-aimed flare to set her entire body aflame.

She merely watched Ryan as he stood before her, gas canister in hand. She didn’t know what he had planned but burning alive did _not_ sound pleasant.

Arryn would have preferred it if it had been Michael who had ‘taken care’ of her. Yeah, he was a cocky son of a bitch and would have laughed the whole time but it was better than her current predicament. Any noise would be comfort, any sound from Ryan would do.

Instead, he was silent and the only noise he made was the rubbing of his leather jacket against itself. He truly was death.

Ryan began walking her way and grabbed her by the bondages of her hands, pulling her along the sand. Arryn tried desperately to stop by placing her heels in the ground but it was to no avail. “Vagabond” was too strong and pulled her with ease.

She knew she wouldn’t be alive for much longer.

It was kind of depressing to think about. Here she was, 25 years old, about to die at the hands of a mass murderer, most likely in one of the most brutal ways imaginable. She supposed it was her fault for choosing to ally herself with a gang that apposed the Fake AH Crew. Maybe it was her fault she lived in Los Santos in the first place. Maybe it was her fault her parents had abandoned her and left her on the streets. Maybe it was all her fault that she had been handed a pretty shitty life.

It didn’t matter now. She just hoped _somebody_ would try and look for her. She kept hope that Barbara would find her – dead or alive, it didn’t matter.

Ryan stopped pulling. Arryn felt her head be placed against something hard and cool. Metal, possibly? “Vagabond” snapped his fingers, catching the raven haired girl’s attention. He gestured for her to stay.

She shrugged and nodded. What was the point of running?

Ryan walked around the object and Arryn heard the opening of a car door. When she glanced to her side, she spotted a license plate. Soon, she heard the rev of an engine followed by the opening of the trunk above her.

Ryan returned into her view, leaning down to grab her restraints. Arryn complied, getting to her feet. The man in the skull mask opened the hood of the trunk and gestured to it. The raven haired girl didn’t like the idea of climbing inside the trunk of some car but it looked like she had no choice.

She sat on the edge before lifting her legs into the space. Arryn landed inside, seeing it was rather empty and clean. She looked up, meeting Ryan’s blue eyes once more. They blinked and the trunk was slammed shut.

With the bright light of the Los Santos sun suddenly gone, Arryn’s eyes were forced to adjust to the new darkness that surrounded her.

She listened as Ryan’s feet crunched the sand beneath them before he climbed inside the car, the door slamming shut. The engine purred once more before they began their drive.

Arryn didn’t know what to think. She swore he was going to roast her on the sand. He had the gasoline canister and they were in a fairly remote location. No one would pay them any mind.

But, suddenly, she was thrown into the trunk of a car? And the psychotic member of the Fake AH Crew was taking her on a cruise through the desert?

Maybe he was taking her back to their base. Maybe Geoff wanted to interrogate her in person, having Michael break her fingers one by one while asking her where he could find Griffon and the other girls. Arryn would never tell no matter what.

Arryn closed her eyes. It would be a long drive.

* * *

Barbara had spent most of her day shopping and was looking forward to going home and resting. She had used the clothing excursion as an escape from reality: Arryn was missing.

Arryn had been kidnapped many times before – all of them producing the same amounts of horrifying heart-attacks – but this time was. . .different.

The raven haired girl _hadn’t_ been on some mission for Griffon or Tina. She hadn’t been spying on the local gangs or watching drug deals take place. She had been walking home after a night with Barbara when she disappeared.

The blonde still felt responsible even if the other girls told her otherwise. She should’ve taken the woman home. She knew Arryn lived in a dangerous neighborhood; she could’ve at least driven her back.

Or, she could’ve invited her to stay the night. Barbara’s luxury apartment was quite the contrast to Arryn’s rundown flat in a place filled with rival gangs. She would’ve been safe.

Instead, Arryn had walked home alone. And on the next day, hadn’t shown up for their ‘meeting’. None of the girls had seen her. When they investigated her home, there wasn’t even evidence of her being there from the night before.

Whoever had taken her took her during her walk home.

Barbara had just sat herself in her car’s front seat when she received a text on her phone. The blonde shut her door and read it closely, making sure she read every single word correctly.

An anonymous number had sent her a warning: _Be careful of who you make your enemies. I do as I please. I was ordered to take her life but I spared it. I won’t do it again._

She quickly texted back: _Who are you? Who are you talking about?_

Anonymous quickly replied, sending a chill down her spine: _I think you know who I’m taking about, blondie. You better watch over each other. There are plenty of others who could put a bullet in either of your heads better than I could. Heed my warning – if you want to start a war, we come prepared. You better be, too._

Barbara had spent most of her life living with a carefree attitude. But now, she truly felt fear. She knew the Fake AH Crew was targeting them. It _had_ to be them. They had to have Arryn. No one else could execute a kidnapping as well as them.

She needed to know if she was safe: _You said you spared her. Where is she?_

Anonymous simply said: _Home._

Barbara threw her phone down and began driving to her apartment. Her heart was pounding. Home?! The Fake AH Crew knew where she lived!? If so, Barbara needed to warn the other girls. They were in their turf and if the boys got fed up with their shenanigans, they could burn Barbara’s apartment to the ground with her inside.

Luckily, she wasn’t far from her apartment complex. The looming building never seemed so frightening before. What shape would Arryn be in?

When she was usually taken but some drug dealer who wanted revenge or gang’s leader who wanted a ransom, she would be returned to them with black eyes and broken bones. But, when they angered a more powerful foe, sometimes she’d come to them barely alive.

Barbara remembered how horrified she had been when the Funhaus gang had caught Arryn after a heist. It had been two weeks before the saw her again and the sight had made them all weak.

Arryn had had a shotgun wound in her chest with a major concussion from a baseball bat wound to the head. She had spent nearly four days in comatose, trying to recover.

The blonde hoped, prayed and begged, that Arryn would not be in a similar state. She wasn’t sure if her heart could take it.

Her car pulled into the parking lot, the woman running for the inside. She was taking three steps at a time, ‘hauling ass’ up the stairs.

When she reached her apartment door, her hand trembled as she turned the nob.

The apartment was quiet as she entered. There wasn’t any blood – which was a good sign.

As she entered the living room, relief flooded her as she saw Arryn lying on the couch, breathing perfectly fine. Her hands were still bound behind her and a gag was keeping her from speaking.

Barbara quickly sat down beside her, nearly ripping the bandana from around her neck. Arryn took a deep breath before laughing weakly. As she opened her mouth to speak, Barbara’s lips met hers.

The kiss was longer than anticipated but both women greatly appreciated it. Arryn went missing _too_ often. Barbara was sure she had fifty grey hairs already from the raven haired girl. But the kisses and sex that followed after the reunion were certainly a good thing.

“Holy shit. You don’t know how scared I was.” Barbara said as she hugged her tight. She began to take the bondages off from her hands. Arryn sighed in relief as the stress was removed. She hugged Barbara back. “You don’t know how it feels to see your best friend one day and they have them gone the next.”

The raven haired girl rested her head on Barbara’s shoulder. “You were scared? Do you know how terrifying it is to be greeted by Ryan Haywood the second you wake? To be dragged across the desert by him? To be thrown into a fucking car’s trunk by him?” The blonde squeezed tight, Arryn’s relaxing in her arms. “He’s going to haunt my nightmares for the next few weeks.”

“So it was the Fake AH Crew,” Barbara confirmed as she ran her fingers through the woman’s hair. “I got a text from an anonymous sender about you. All of us girls need to be careful. They’re not someone to fuck around with, Arryn.”

The raven haired girl gave a knowing laugh. “Oh I know, Babs. I know.”

Barbara kissed her cheek, lifting the edge of her hair to look at her face. “For once you aren’t covered in bruises.”

Arryn smirked. “I heard battle scars are sexy.”

The blonde rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Yeah, like the one across your eyebrow.” Her thumb traced the faint scar that split her black eyebrow. “And the one that runs from your shoulder to your stomach? You are one hell of a warrior.” Barbara teased, tracing said scar through Arryn’s shirt.

“Shut up! You’re just jealous that you don’t have any.”

Barbara quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that much pain is worth having a ‘sexy battle scar.’”

Arryn nodded in agreement. “They’re really not.”

The blonde tilted her head, leaning in for another kiss. Arryn reciprocated, letting herself fall apart in Barbara’s arms. If there really was a war coming, at least they knew they had each other.


End file.
